


Good Lord, How Will They Get That Child Out?

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon, Fluff, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-24
Updated: 2005-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 09:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12078099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Justin's pregnant! What will he do?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

The first person Justin Taylor told about being pregnant was his best friend and confidante, Daphne Chanders. She had sniggered when he pulled the test from his backpack at lunch and told her his suspicions about being pregnant. He didn't have a missed period to give him a clue. He hadn't felt sick, or any of the other things he'd heard so much about. 

He just had a feeling.

When he'd called to let her know that the blue lines had indeed shown up on the white strip, she'd sat in stunned silence for a bit. He didn't know what to say because he was just as surprised as she was.

"Do you think they make maternity tuxes?" Daphne asked finally.

Justin furrowed his brow and moved the phone to his other ear. "Why?"

"Because you'll definitely being showing at Prom and I'm not letting you weasel out of taking me."

Justin shook his head while Daphne let out a snort on the other end of the cordless. He was more worried about letting his parents know because they'd eventually find out. The sad thing was they'd probably be more receptive to the whole 'dad' thing if he told them that he'd gotten Daphne pregnant. At least that they would understand, but being a pregnant male was nearly unheard of.

"How are you going to tell Brian?" Daphne wanted to know.

"Fuck," Justin hissed with a light slap of his palm to his forward. "I don't know."

Even worse than telling his parents was going to be telling the father. Brian Kinney was nowhere near father material. Plus, he'd already told Justin that he didn't do relationships, which was utter bullshit because they'd been seeing each other for quite awhile now. Justin knew from the moment he had laid eyes on Brian beneath that street lamp in the wee hours of the morning that he was in love. It wasn't a hard feeling to distinguish; it was convincing Brian to stop saying that what Justin was feeling wasn't love that was the hard part.

Daphne sighed, "Doesn't he already have a kid?"

"Yeah. Gus," Justin informed her as he grabbed a sketchpad from his desk drawer. His favorite pencil was stuck through the rings at the top. "I was there the night he was born, remember? I told you about it."

Daphne let out a breathy agreement as Justin settled into the pillows on his bed. His pencil flitted across the stark page, drawing line after line until they connected into a likeness of a baby swaddled in a hospital blanket. Justin wondered aloud if his baby would look as cute and Daphne let out raucous laughter at the mention of it.

"Your baby will be gorgeous," she assured him. "With genes like yours, how could it not be?"

That made Justin smile but the smile didn't last long.

"Just out of curiosity," Daphne hesitated. "How's it supposed to come out? Does it emerge from your dick or what?"

Justin gasped rather loudly and began to sweat. "Gotta go, Daph." He hung up the phone and grabbed his jacket as he raced from the room and to the nearest doctor's office.


	2. Good Lord, How Will They Get That Child Out?

Arnold Holidinn was a fifty-something doctor at the free clinic in Pittsburgh. The many years he had spent working as a doctor there had made his hair turn gray and fall out with age or stress. It may even have been a combination of the two, he wasn't quite sure. Arnold had seen everything from self attempted abortions to crayons stuck up noses. What he hadn't seen, though, was a case the blond sitting in front of him was professing he had. 

"You think you're--"

"Pregnant," Justin finished for the doctor.

Doctor Arnold proceeded to glance across the boy's chart as a means to stifle his laughter. "And what made you come to this conclusion?"

"I missed my period," Justin deadpanned but immediately cracked a smile when the doctor's head shot up and stared at him. "I can't really say, but I know that it's not impossible. I've heard of males getting pregnant before."

The doctor nodded his head as he continued to peruse the chart. "And how did you find out that you were . . . pregnant?"

Justin coughed and moved uncomfortably on the bench. The paper crinkled underneath him. "I pissed on a test."

"Really?" Doctor Arnold asked with just a hint of a smirk. "And the results were . . .?"

"Positive," Justin proclaimed.

The doctor put Justin's chart on the edge of the counter and rolled a chair from the corner to sit on. He looked at Justin and heaved a sigh. "And you're here because . . .?"

"I want to make sure that it's actually true." 

The ease with which Justin stated the fact, as though every male walked into a clinic on the dodgy side of town proclaiming just this, surprised the doctor. "We can do a blood test to make sure that you are indeed--"

"Pregnant," Justin prodded. "I'd like that."

While Justin waited for the doctor to get the supplies for the blood test, Jennifer Taylor was telling all she knew to Justin's father. After the blood had been drawn, Craig Taylor walked into his son's room and scanned the walls of male pinups in different arrays of dress. Justin couldn't be gay. He opened the drawer and pulled out Justin's sketchpad full of football players and other male bodies. His son wasn't queer. In the waste paper basket was a discarded pregnancy test. This proved that his son wasn't gay -- that he'd knocked up some chick. 

Craig sighed with relief.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Justin emerged from the doctor's office with a renewed sense of impending doom. The blood test had come out positive, much to Doctor Arnold's amazement. Justin wasn't surprised in the least --he'd already known for the most part, and had just needed extra proof. As he made his way home, he wondered how he was going to tell his parents the news.

"Justin," a stern voice said once he'd entered the house. "Your mother and I need to talk to you. Now."

Justin sighed and threw his keys on the entryway table. "I actually need to talk to you guys too."

"We'll go first," his mother said taking a seat. 

Craig leaned against the island and shook his head. "Justin, your mother tells me that you claim to be gay."

Justin looked at his mother, appalled that she'd broken her promise, and then said, "I _am_ gay."

Justin's father pushed himself away from the counter top and threw his hands in the air. "You aren't gay! You got somebody pregnant, which means you aren't gay. Who is it?"

Justin stared at his father and then began to laugh. "How'd you know?"

Jennifer explained in a soft voice, "There's a positive pregnancy test in your room, Justin. Did you think we'd be happier that you were a teenage father rather than being gay?"

Justin shook his head. "I am gay, Mother! And I'm pregnant."

Nobody spoke for quite awhile and then Craig said in a voice slightly above a whisper, "But you're a boy . . ."

Justin smiled. "What? Never heard of male pregnancies? They're all the rage in Europe."

At that moment, Craig's eyes grew dark with anger and his hand seemed to streak across the air as it struck Justin's face. The echoing sound of skin upon skin resonated around the trio who were stuck in a stunned silence. It was only broken by Craig's hard and distant voice. "Get out of my house."

"Craig!"Jennifer yelled as she rushed to her son's side.

"Gladly," Justin hissed through gritted teeth. "Let me get some of my things." He held up a hand to stop his mother.

Craig stood tall in Justin's way. As the blond made to walk around his father, Craig pushed him to the floor. 

"I will not have a faggot in my house!"

A kick to the ribs made Justin's retort come out as nothing but a moan and whoosh of air. Instinctively, Justin's arms flew protectively over his abdomen as he received blow after blow from his father. Justin pleaded with his eyes for his mother to stop the madness. Frozen in fear, she didn't do anything until Justin had inched his way across the room to the front door. Craig watched in disgust as Justin attempted to stand with little help from Jennifer. 

"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered as Justin tumbled onto the cement porch.

As he pushed Jennifer off of him, Justin spat blood at his former family before he issued a warning. "Stay away from me and mine. I never want to see you again! D'you hear me? Never again!"

Craig stepped around Jennifer and shut the door.


	3. Good Lord, How Will They Get That Child Out?

Bloodied and barely able to walk, Justin carried himself down the street towards unknown salvation. His left arm was still slung protectively over his abdomen, but his other hung limply at his side. Walking down the deserted street, the battered blond hissed with every intake of breath. His ribs, as unbroken as they possibly could be, hurt with every strain and movement he made. 

Night was falling and the sky was turning some serious shades of purple and red, and Justin imagined his face was turning those shades also. His father had kicked at him like David Beckham at the World Cup, and Justin wasn't surprised to find the blood that dripped from his mouth. As the sun lowered behind the trees, Justin inched forward in hopes that he'd see somebody he knew on Liberty Avenue that would be kind enough to help him.

Justin neared the colorful street after the day had disappeared. He scanned the crowd for any familiar face, but wound up empty handed. He knew that it was too early for Brian to go anywhere near Babylon, but he could only hope that he'd be at the first place Justin came to. Leaning against the window at the front of the Liberty Diner, Justin perused the clientele and didn't see the tall brunette he was hoping to find. He was disheartened to see that also went for Debbie, the monkey's mother, who helped him out whenever he needed. Mustering an ounce of strength, Justin pushed himself away from the window and made his way to the second nearest place.

Woody's was crowded and Justin wondered how he'd ever find anybody without making a scene. He gimped around the bar, looking for familiar faces, but didn't see any that didn't scare him. A quick glance at the pool tables left him saddened, and he didn't even want to think about the bathrooms. 

"Justin?"

He turned around and found himself face to chest with Emmett. Emmett looked down at Justin with concern on his face and Justin swayed a bit as he concentrated on Emmett's face.

"What the fuck happened to you? Get into a bit of kink you couldnï¿½t handle?"

If the situation wasn't as dire, Justin would have laughed at that, but laughing caused him pain. "I . . . need . . . Brian," he hissed as pain seared through his chest with every word, but his swollen lip caused him to slur his words.

Emmett put his arm around the blond's shoulder and led him to a vacant bar stool. He signaled to the waiter who placed a 'Heineken' in front of Justin. Justin stared at the green bottle and then back at Emmett, wondering why he hadn't gone off to find Brian yet. "What's this?"

"You said you needed a beer."

"Brian," Justin corrected him. "I need . . . Brian!"

"Oh!" Emmett said surprised and then pointed at the restroom entrance. "There."

Justin watched as Brian emerged from the room, buttoning his shirt, and slipping a folded piece of paper into his back pocket. He straightened his hair and then strutted over to the pool table where Justin saw Michael standing with a pool cue. Michael said something and Brian laughed while snatching the pool cue from him at the same time. 

Justin unsteadily stood and made his way over to the pool table, Emmett in toe. "Bri . . ."

The blond was weak and Brian didn't hear him at first, so Justin called louder. 

"Hey, Brian!" Emmett squealed from behind you. "Look who I found!"

Brian turned and looked to see who Emmett was pointing at. "Justin?"

Justin nodded and Brian scrunched up his nose. "You look like shit," he said.

"Yes, well . . ." And as Brian neared Justin, his legs gave out, and Justin crumbled into his arms.


	4. Good Lord, How Will They Get That Child Out?

"Fuck!" Brian quickly tightened his arms around the younger man's torso to keep him from making contact with the dirty, beer-soaked floor. "Justin! Wake up!" 

"What's wrong with him?"

"Does it look like I know anything, Emmett? Fuck! Help me get him outside."

Emmett grabbed Justinï¿½s lower half, and struggled to carry the weight through the maze of tables and chairs that were scattered in his path. 

"Jesus, Mikey!" Brian called. "You gonna help him or stand there like a fucking ape?"

Michael shook his head, obviously confused by the event that just took place. "Sorry."

Emmett attempted to kick at another chair, and hoisted Justin's legs higher to get a better grip. As soon as they were outside and in a cab, Brian told the driver to get them to the nearest hospital. He cradled Justin's head in his lap while the rest of the blond was splayed across the backseat.

At the hospital, Brian wheeled Justin in after paying the driver. Frantic and belligerent, he yelled for immediate attention and a nurse. One showed up, but she was hardly in the mood for a drama queen moment. She looked like a man. Or the female version of Michael, but with more hair if that was possible.

"He just passed out," Brian told her when she questioned him. "Came into the bar . . . and passed out. Fuck if I know why."

She jotted down the blond's name, address, and phone number from his license because Brian admittedly had no clue. Brian stayed close to her, nipping at her heels as the nurse wheeled Justin into x-ray. He lifted Justin's limp frame from the wheelchair and placed him onto the x-ray table while the nurse positioned the frame, and told Brian to step back behind the shield while the machine was being used. 

He did as she said.

Justin's eyes fluttered open at that moment. The nurse caught the subtle movement right away and entered the room. Upon seeing her and the machine he was under, Justin's hands flew protectively over his abdomen.

"You're not giving me a fucking x-ray while I'm pregnant!"

Brian stared, dazed, "Huh?"

"I'm having your baby, Baby."

And then it was Brian's turn to pass out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Brian came to in a private room at the ER. He laughed tensely as the doctor asked him questions to make sure he didn't have a concussion because a hard floor and a long way to fall doesn't make a good combination. In the corner, Justin nervously bit his lower lip and fiddled with his hands. 

"I swear you have undiagnosed ADD," Brian told him.

Justin just shrugged.

"I can't believe you're fucking pregnant. One of the only perks about being gay was that you didn't _have_ to worry about that. Way to fuck with that one, Justin."

Justin just rolled his eyes.

Brian turned to the doctor. "So how'd this happen anyway? Doesn't he lack the appropriate equipment?"

The doctor tapped the clipboard in his hand against the edge of the counter. "As a baby we all start out female. As the fetus develops it turns into a male or stays on the female track. Justin is genetically male, but he kept a female chromosome that allows him to essentially become pregnant as a woman would. It's really a medical wonder, and would have gone undetected had he been straight."

Brian smirked and looked at the blond in the corner. "So Sunshine. . . you really are a pussy boy."

Justin scowled and narrowed his eyes. "Fuck you, Brian!"

"Actually, fucking _you_ was what got us in this predicament in the first place."

"You think our child is a _predicament_?"

"Well, I suppose if I knocked you up, I should probably be there for you and the kid."

"Don't go out of your way."

"Well, it'll be a challenge. And I've always liked it when things were hard."

Justin smiled slightly. Maybe it would be okay in the end.


End file.
